


Heroes - Locked in Hell

by PixelEm



Series: Heroes - A Sonic Forces AU Collection [1]
Category: Sonic Forces - Fandom, Sonic the Hedgehog (Video Games), Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Beating, Blood, Blood and Injury, Drowning, Eventual Happy Ending, HARD T-rating, I'm so sorry Sonic :'(, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Mild Language, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Physical Abuse, Psychological Torture, Rescue, Self-Doubt, Sonic Forces, Sonic needs a hug, and therapy, seriously, set during Sonic's imprisonment on the Death Egg, sonic forces au, the sick freak, torture courtesy of Eggman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:02:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21814870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PixelEm/pseuds/PixelEm
Summary: Sonic isn't afraid of Eggman. Of course he isn't; Sonic's supposed to be the hero. That's what he's always been, and heroes don't get scared like that. They just don't. So why should now be any different?Originally posted on Fanfiction.net.
Series: Heroes - A Sonic Forces AU Collection [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1571863
Comments: 15
Kudos: 103





	Heroes - Locked in Hell

Sonic has been thinking a lot lately – way more than he usually does. Even though he rarely wants to. He understands by now that it’s just his naturally hyperactive brain’s last resort right now, the only way it can receive any sort of stimulus while he was still _here_ – in one of the Mobius-knows-how-many cells Eggman had built on this junky space-egg, both his wrists and his ankles bound in energy chains that scuff his skin whenever he wrestles to be free of them (something he’s done so much by now that it’s begun to feel like a routine), forcing him to either sit or lie down on either the cold steel floor or the equally-chilled raised piece of metal embedded in the wall where he’s meant to sleep (or whatever the hell he’s been slipping into every night or so nowadays) while he waits for something to happen.

Sometimes, but only rarely, that “something” is one of the Egghead’s cronies bringing him food (if he can even use a word so pleasant for whatever _that_ crap is). Usually, though, it’s one of his cronies doing something far worse.

At best, it’s moving him to yet another Mobius-forsaken cell. At worst, it’s dragging him into some more Hell.

Like this solitary confinement, limited mobility, and lack of nourishment wasn’t Hellish enough for that mad doctor.

Every single time, it feels like he wants to make him suffer in every way imaginable. In every way that he _knew_ would bring him the most pain. It’s a game to him, Sonic is certain, a cruel unending round of roulette where he’s the only Gamemaster calling the shots while his opponent has the pistol’s nozzle practically strapped to his forehead. He often imagines what must go through the guy’s head each time he prepares what he’ll put him through next: What’s that? You’re deathly afraid of drowning? Here, allow me to drop you to the bottom of this raging pool! Can’t stand tight spaces? It’s the room with the closing walls for you, in you go! Ah, but _still_! Your worst fear: that the whole world, that all of your pathetic little friends, will fall and suffer, and you can’t do a thing to stop it? I’ve the _perfect_ scenario for that! I’ll let you know first thing how much progress my empire has made! I’ll tell you the names of every single member of your futile resistance that I felled today! I’ll give you _every last detail_ on what I did to them! I’m sure you’ll appreciate that! And, as an added bonus, I’ll throw in some impossibly lifelike hallucinations of your friends suffering in the worst ways you can imagine, all of them crying and screaming for you to come to their rescue – but, of course, you can’t, because you’re far too chained to the floor to make it to them in time! You’ll get to watch them die and feel their pain as if it’s the real deal! No need to thank me, I was only feeling generous today! Oh ho ho _ho_!

Sonic never has to imagine what the fat man thinks while watching his torture; he always lets him know right away what’s going on in that supposedly “massive” brain of his: _For over twenty-five years I’ve been waiting for this moment, Sonic… you will NEVER know how good it feels to finally have you right where I want you! – Your suffering is bringing me more joy than I’ve felt in a very long time! Your screaming is like utter MUSIC to my ears! – Mm… I must say, those tears go very nicely with your blue fur! You should consider keeping such a look! It really goes with all of that agony I keep seeing in your eyes! – Look at it, Sonic! A beautiful planet, soon to be in the full control of MY vast, gorgeous empire! MINE! HO HO HO HO!_

Sonic can’t help but clench his teeth whenever he hears that damn laugh of his now.

He remembers a time when Tails had once told him that Eggman, though dastardly, wasn’t nearly _that_ cruel. Such a statement is such a gross deviation from what he’s seen while he’s been kept here that it almost makes Sonic want to laugh.

Tails.

Just thinking his name makes Sonic’s heart twitch. Just as all of their names do: Tails, Knuckles, Amy, Cream, Rouge, Vector, Espio, Charmy, Silver – just, _everyone_. Every last one of them. His friends. His _family_.

For a long time thinking of them made his chest twinge in pain; his own paranoid imagination had practically been in overdrive, flashing images across his mind’s eye of what must be going down right now, what sort of tizzies they must have worked themselves into after seeing him – _him_ , _Sonic_ the _freaking_ Hedgehog, of all Mobians – get pounded into the ground so _easily_. Tossed about like a toy. Broken like glass.

But then, slowly but eventually, those visions began to fade once a new train of thought passed through his mind: They can take care of themselves. They’ve taken care of themselves so many times before. What am I so scared of? I know they’re determined. I know they’re strong. I know _how_ strong they are. They’ll fight. They’ll give it all they’ve got. They always do, whether I’m there or not. They’ll fight.

Ever since then, Sonic used those thoughts as an antidote to his situation. After every “session” that Eggman wrung him through, he did his best to bring those thoughts right back, along with the images that came with them. The images that, if Sonic has to be fully honest, moved him far more than any film could have.

He’s more than likely been in here for at least three months now, but his sense of time is totally skewed. When he tries to sleep he has no clue if it’s night or not. He can’t determine if another day has begun or ended. Sometimes he wonders if this place just makes hours tick by slower than they normally do for him (He’d once, well before this whole war started, joked to Tails that in his internal clock, hours are registered in minutes and minutes in seconds instead). And of course, to go along with that, he’s constantly trapped in a tight cage with no way to stretch his legs or even his arms. Without anything to help him cope, he’d have definitely lost his mind by now.

So he thinks. He thinks of Tails. He thinks of Knuckles. Of Amy, of Cream, even of Big and his little frog friend. He thinks of them all. He thinks of the entire Resistance, the recruits that he knew were working hard to take back their home. Even though he’s never met them, he’s super proud of them all. He wishes every day that he could be fighting alongside them, but then he remembers that they’re still strong even without him.

They’re all strong. They’ll make it through this. He just knows it.

They’re strong. They’ll fight. They’ll win.

~x~

When they come for him again he’s lying on his side, his back to the door, his mind lost in a blissful daydream. He jumps at the sudden bang on the bars, but he settles his fur just as quickly. He rolls over and looks up at the figure standing just outside there.

Yesterday – or, the last time, he should say – it was Metal Sonic who came. The time before then, it’d been Chaos. Right now, it’s Zavok.

Despite the hulking Zeti’s eternal grimace, Sonic still musters a smirk. “Heh. Is the Egghead really _that_ bored already?”

Zavok grunts and punches the wall beside him; somehow, this opens up the way out.

“You’d best keep your mouth shut when he sees you, hedgehog,” he growls. The rising bars of the cell door cast stripes of shadow across his face. “Not if you value your life.”

Sonic pushes himself onto his feet as best as he can. He ignores the dull aches that pop in his knees.

“Really? ‘Cause that’s what you said the first day I was here, and…”

“You continue making a mockery of him and you won’t get the chance to see the next day, or any more days. He will cease his mercy and– ”

“Really? _This_ is what he calls mercy? Jeez, if sadistic torture is his idea of mercy then– ”

He almost yelps when Zavok lunges and presses the sharp tips of his claws into his right ear. Almost. It itches in the back of his throat, but he swallows it just in time. He hopes it’s just as invisible as it’d been the first time, all those countless weeks ago.

“You ought to feel blessed that he’s in a good mood, hedgehog, but I wouldn’t dare take him out of it today. Because mark my words: you may have laughed at him countless times before, but should you laugh too much, he _will_ become your nightmare. He won’t even give you the chance to speak about what he’ll do to you.”

“Pff. What’s he gonna do, turn me into a lampshade?”

He has to bite down on his tongue this time as that pinching pain reignited in his ear.

“You’d be _begging_ for such a fate if you don’t shut your mouth. Mark my words, you hopeless rodent.”

“Whatever you say, Zavvy-ol’-buddy.”

~x~

He has to agree with the Zeti on one of his points: right now, the mad doctor looks happier than he’s been in years.

But the more Sonic looks at him, the more he notices how different he appears, compared to every previous encounter he’s had with him. He’s not maniacally gleeful, as he’d been as he’d observed Sonic during his past sessions, watching him with a smile that reached his eyes and his hands clapped together like a kid watching their favorite show. Neither is he on the verge of belting out that oh-so familiar laugh of his. On the contrary, Sonic resorts to a word that he’d never imagined using to describe Eggman: _relaxed_. His eyebrows for once aren’t furrowed, and his smile is just a thin curve of a grin underneath his mustache. He’s sitting up in his Egg-o-matic seat, his arms at rest on the dashboard while his hands are together at the fingertips to form a pointed pyramid shape. He looks as if about to hold a quiet conference meeting rather than a torture session. He looks peaceful, confident.

Somehow, that unnerves Sonic even more than if he’d be grinning like a maniac.

Zavok shoves Sonic into the small room with Eggman, kicking his haunches as he slams the gate shut behind him. Sonic, his focus trained more on his arch-nemesis that he actually forgot about the Zeti’s presence, lurches forward and hisses quietly when his knees and elbows collide with the titanium floor. On instinct he swings his legs up to right himself up again, but then a low humming sound fills the room and makes him freeze.

He whips his head up and sees _him_ – that damned masked jackal that had put him in this whole mess in the first place, the one he has to blame for the war continuing as long as it has – hovering just behind Eggman. His left eye – the only section of his face not concealed by that knockoff Halloween costume piece – trains itself on him as the jackal crosses his arms. Dark red opaque bubbles of energy surround him, keeping him aloft in the air – the same dark red as that pyramid-shaped gem in the middle of his chest.

It’s as if he can read his mind; as he stares Sonic dead in the eyes, the jackal slowly lifts one of his gloved hands to adjust the gem. His eyes never leave him as he does so, signaling to Sonic that the action had definite purpose. A warning; _You get up here, and you’re in for a storm._

Like _he_ can read his mind, Eggman’s little grin stretches into a smirk right as the jackal floats next to him.

Sonic’s ears twitch. All he wants to do is snap these cuffs, smash both them and their smug faces in and then turn this ship into the dumpster fire it always has been. But he can’t. If he tries, then that jackal will absolutely wreak far worse than just a simple warning on him. So, clenching his teeth and his fists, he sits down on his knees and looks up at the mad scientist like – and such a comparison seriously makes him retch – a church boy praying to his deity.

Despite his discomfort and disgust with this whole situation, he still feigns a sigh as he stares up at the two.

“So,” he says, his voice sounding as bored as he’d hoped it would, “what’cha got for me this time, Egghead?”

Eggman’s grin widens and he barks a laugh while the jackal simply adjusts his mask.

“You’d best cease your insults, hedgehog, especially now.” The wild dog’s voice is low and raspy, as if growling and speaking at the same time; Sonic had often wondered if that even _is_ his true voice, or if the mask simply distorts it. “You have caught the doctor in a good mood, but if you pull him out of that– ”

Before Sonic can stop it, his mouth runs way faster than his brain and blurts “No kiddin? That’s exactly what Zavok was saying! Say, you guys must really – !”

“ _HO_ ho ho ho _ho_!”

_Finally_. It finally happened; he finally did it. Sonic has been waiting for it. Doesn’t stop his ears from swiftly swiveling away from it.

“No insult on your entire planet could affect me now, Sonic!” Eggman boasts, rubbing his palms together, “Especially not since _your_ planet is now _mine_! Totally _mine_!”

Sonic raises an eyebrow. “Really? You’re totally sure about that? ‘Cause you’ve been sayin that same thing the whole time I’ve been here, and you keep on sayin it over and over buuuuuut…” He glances around the room and gives a small, indifferent shrug. “…I don’t know, didn’t you ever think that if you say it too much it’ll just– ?”

“It hasn’t lost it’s meaning, it has always had meaning, this planet has always been falling down under my rule!” Eggman interrupts, his words coming out fast and loud. But his irritating smile never lets up.

“But it has even more meaning _now_ – _especially RIGHT_ _now_! Nothing has ever meant so much as _that_ does right _now!”_

It may be just delirium from the solitary confinement or from the lack of true nutrition in his bones in the moment, but Sonic can swear that Eggman’s grin is somehow growing wider…

“It’s everything I’ve ever wanted, Sonic. And, as our _most_ esteemed guest here on the Death Egg, I thought it only right for _you_ to get the news first! Look, I’ve even given you a front row seat!”

Before Sonic can even open his mouth to ask him what the hell he’s talking about, Eggman provides him all the answers he could need.

He pounds an unseen button on the dashboard’s control panel, and a hologram flickers to life in front of Sonic, drawing up with its neon blue pixels an image of a globe of their world, spinning at the same pace you would expect a globe like it to spin while two very familiar symbols sat just above it, symbols that Sonic immediately recognized as those of his own Team Sonic and Team Eggma–

Ninety-nine.

It almost doesn’t register right away. He does a double take.

Ninety-nine.

Sonic doesn’t get the chance to hide his reaction this time because of how hard the realization hits him. His face falls.

What?

He suddenly feels like he’s been punched in the gut. He blinks once. Twice.

Wait… are you serious?

He blinks one last time and squints. Hard.

Ninety-nine.

That’s how much control Eggman’s empire has over the planet right now. Ninety-nine percent of _the whole damn planet_.

What that means – what all those Mobius-damned numbers staring him in the face mean – sends a cold snake of dread down his spine.

And then Eggman, almost immediately after Sonic realizes what all of this means as if he’d just received a pre-planned cue, only makes it worse.

Another sudden slam on the control panel elicits a small instinctual yelp of surprise from Sonic, but the surprise quickly turns into shock and then chilling dread when he looks up and gets a complete view of what Eggman currently has projected onto the walls.

The footage is dusty and shaky, but still clear enough to see every detail in the action, no matter its nature: Resistance forces yelling as they fall to armies of Egg Pawns, daring new recruits charging into the fray before being eaten alive by it, civilians screaming as their cities and homes crumble around them, soldiers and citizens and families and children trying to flee or fight back and crying when the bullets hit them or the lasers slice through them–

He spots his friends and his heart jumps into his throat. Even through the mess of battle, he catches glimpses of them; Knuckles’s red fur, Silver encased in his own psychic energy, a flash of Amy’s hammer, a brief swish from Vector’s tail; he feels like he identifies just about all of them, even if it’s just a fleeting glimpse from behind a scrambled mess of bodies, organic or mechanical.

More often than not, they seem to disappear completely underneath a tangle of those who look organic.

Sonic whips his head around, his breath catching in his throat; that madman has footage projected onto every wall in the room now, including the floor and the ceiling. They flicker to different areas of the world, but the content is always disturbingly similar; it doesn’t matter if it’s in Green Hill, Spagonia, Mystic Jungle, South Island, Metropolis or wherever else, there’s always soldiers fighting, armies falling, buildings crumbling, citizens screaming, children wailing–

“Your annoying little resistance has failed, Sonic.”

Sonic snaps his attention back to Eggman; he’d been so focused on the camera footage that he hadn’t heard the man rise from his seat, begin to walk towards him.

Sonic fights to keep himself from flinching away or hissing at him to kindly piss off as he approaches. He stops right in front of Sonic, kneels down. His hand shoots out and grabs hold of the fur on top of Sonic’s head; he cannot help but hiss at the man this time.

Of course, like that’s going to disturb the madman’s smug aura.

“ _You_ failed, Sonic,” Eggman says, his Mobius-damned _laugh_ hiding behind every word, “I told you I wouldn’t fail this time, and _now_ look! Almost the entire world is under my total control now! The inevitable has finally happened! The Eggman Empire has _risen_!”

Then, lowering his voice to a mutter, he adds:

“Did you honestly believe that you could resist me forever?”

Sonic stares at his own reflection in Eggman’s glasses, then spies the glint in the eyes behind the lenses, and all of a sudden he feels like the inside of his chest has burst into flame.

He can somehow muster enough restraint to ask in a calm, collected voice: “…Where are my friends?”

“Your _friends_?” Eggman’s answer is incredulous but still cheery. He reels his head back and barks, “ _HAH_! How should I know where your pathetic little friends are? They’ve fallen just like the rest of your puny resistance!”

Now Sonic can feel the flames crawl up the back of his throat. He grits his teeth in a snarl.

_“If you DARE take him out of his good mood…”_

“What’s _happened_ to them, Egghead?” Sonic growls through his teeth, straining to keep himself from completely snapping at the madman, “What have you done to them– _what_ have your armies done?”

“Hmm… well, _I_ certainly still don’t have a clue,” Eggman chuckles, “But I imagine they’ve fallen to the same fates as the rest of them. They might have run off with their tails between their legs…”

Sonic’s ears flatten against his head.

“…but, then again, they _could_ also just be dead…”

_“He’s only trying to piss you off,”_ the more rational part of Sonic argues, _“He’s trying to rub it in. Trying to rile you up on purpose. Don’t fall for it. Do not give him that satisfaction. Do NOT.”_

“Just some more bodies for my robots to scrape off of the grou– ”

“You’re lying.”

It comes out before Sonic can even think about stopping it. Eggman and even that jackal react just as he’d expected, but in that moment he doesn’t give a single damn. He says it not because he believes it, but because it’s what he _wants_ to believe.

Eggman, who’d actually flinched when he’d heard it, stares open-mouthed down at Sonic. Sonic stares back, hoping he’d spy the challenge in his eyes.

Then Eggman’s brows furrow. He tightens his grip on Sonic’s head fur as he leans down a little closer.

“… _What_ did you just say?”

_“He will cease his mercy… He WILL become your nightmare….”_

Again, Sonic recalls Zavok’s warnings. Again, he chooses to ignore them.

“You’re lying, Egghead,” Sonic spits, “You’re bluffing. You don’t have ninety-nine percent of the world. You made that camera footage yourself. It’s just another one of _that_ creep’s illusions, isn’t it?”

In the corner of his eye he catches the slightest flinch from the jackal, which Sonic can’t help but grin at.

Eggman looks as if he’s been slapped. “Wh-What tells you that– ?”

“I _know_ my friends. And, I know _you_. You couldn’t kill them. You’ve been trying that for years and we’re still up and kicking! You can barely beat them in a normal fair fight! They wouldn’t even give you the _chance_!” Sonic pours as much of that infuriating lowness and smugness into his voice as Eggman had before. It isn’t quite the same as punching him in the nose for locking him up in here for as long as he has, but boy if it doesn’t feel just as satisfying. _How does it feel, Egghead? Your own medicine doesn’t taste so good, does it?_

Eggman’s right cheek twitches as Sonic speaks. “Y-You… You dare talk to– ?”

“Oh I dare, alright! I dare ‘cause _I’m_ not scared of the truth!”

Now there is anger – real anger in Eggman’s voice: “ _You’re_ the liar! You’ve seen the footage! I’ve kept you here for _months_! _I_ defeated you without any trouble at all! They’ve lost their savior! Without _you_ they’re– ”

“They can take care of themselves,” Sonic hisses, “I know that because I know _them_. They’re strong – way stronger than _you_ and your artificial army could ever _hope_ to be!”

Eggman jabs a finger at Sonic and snaps, “You _shut u_ – !”

“You’re a fat liar, Egghead. You know you’ll never win. You’ll never have the world. I bet you barely have even a quar– **_AUGH_**!”

But Sonic can barely make it through the word’s first syllable when Eggman’s fist shoots towards his right eye, connecting with the socket and rocking his head backwards. It shocks him so badly that he cannot even hope to hold in the piercing screech that bursts out of him when pain explodes behind his eyeball.

“SHUT _UP_!”

Sonic can’t even fully register that first hit when the doctor strikes him again. Then again. Again. He squeezes his left eye shut as his right one swells and closes for him, so he doesn’t get to see Eggman’s fists before he feels them. In his stomach. In his lungs. In his legs and in his arms, his face and jaw. It’s like the madman doesn’t want to leave any part of him untouched. His head slams into the hard floor in a sickening rhythm. He feels his nose break, tastes the blood as it drips down his muzzle into his mouth, which is constantly open as more howls of agony escape him.

Unbidden tears well in his eyes; several times he instinctually tries to put up his cuffed fists to block the blows, but they’re a useless shield as Eggman grabs them and holds them – _pins him_ – to the ground to keep him motionless while he hits him – _hurts him_ – like he’s a living punching bag.

“SHUT UP, SHUT _UP_ YOU FILTHY RODENT! YOU _MONGEREL_ – ! _DELINQUENT_ – ! YOU _HORRID_ LITTLE _SEWER RAT_! I SHOULD KEEL-HAUL YOU! SKIN YOU ALIVE! YOU IMPUDENT, DIRTY LITTLE _BEAST!_ ”

Again and again he screams down at him, his vocabulary expanding to make room even more vulgar profanities that Sonic has ever heard from him. With every insult there’s another blow – _POW POW POW_ , over and over.

Sonic can’t think to do anything but take every hit. What _can_ he do right now? It feels like absolutely nothing. He can’t move. He can’t speak. Every inch of him is either throbbing or bursting with agony.

_“He’s going to kill me.”_ The thought strikes him as hard as Eggman’s fists. _“Oh dear Mobius he’s actually going to do it he’s actually going to kill me I’m going to die right now at his hands– ”_

But then, as suddenly as they’d started, the fists stop.

“That’s quite enough, doctor.”

“…Wh-What? What do you _mean_!? How– !?”

“Is there anything of worth to gain if you go on like this? Really, is there? Besides your own ego?”

Shuddering breaths enter and exit Sonic’s lungs. His entire body is either bleeding, throbbing, or aching. He doesn’t dare move a muscle, except to, as gently as he can, pry his left eye open into a thin slit.

His vision is warped and watery, but he can still make out the two very distinct shapes of Eggman and that jackal towering above him.

“You won’t gain anything of worth if you continue.” The jackal’s voice is smooth, collected, sinister. “Believe me, if I’d been in your chair I would have done the same. And I can see how much of the stress has left your face now, but you don’t want to overdo it.”

“Wha– !? Over _do it_!? What the hell is that supposed to– !”

“You have made your point _very_ clear to him. But you don’t want to end his life just yet. Remember your little victory plan you explained to me? Just a few days ago? You wouldn’t want to spoil yourself such an opportunity, would you?”

The question hangs in the air as silence fills the room. Sonic quietly begs, _prays_ that neither of them can hear how hard his heart his slamming against his ribcage.

Relief floods him when he hears Eggman mutter “…Fffffff _ine_ …”, but then he feels two rough hands dig their fingers into the two sides of his face and it’s like the relief was never there at all. His breath hitches, his heart races even faster as the hands lift him from the ground; the left thumb digs into a bruise on his cheek, forcing a low whine out of him.

He stops, suspended in the air by just the two hands. A warm blast of air hits his face and he winces; Eggman’s breath smells just as rancid as he’d always thought it would.

“You listen here, you disgusting creature,” Eggman hisses at him through clenched teeth, “ _I_ am not a liar. _You_ are. You’re lying to yourself. You are _not_ the hero this time. You have failed. Your friends have failed. You’re weak and pathetic. _I’m_ your emperor now. _I_ have the whole planet, and there’s nothing you can do to change that.

“ _I_ win this time, Sonic, once and for all. _I_ win. _You_ lose. Your home belongs to _me_.”

Sonic hears his ever-quick quips circle about in his brain – _“I’m NOT afraid of you, Egghead…”_ – but nothing comes out of his throat except for his quick, shallow breaths, his own reflexive struggle against the mad scientist’s hands, the thumb of one of which has now lowered to press into his windpipe. Then the quips fade as all the words he’d heard before begin to circle instead: planet, fail, fight, resist, fail, dead, gone, ninety-nine, resistance, gone, fail, lose.

He hears Eggman bark a command at the jackal, who accepts without a word. The hands gripping Sonic’s face fall away, but he doesn’t hit the floor; he doesn’t dare open his eyes to make sure, but he knows that the jackal is carrying him using the same energy that keeps _him_ aloft, yet another ability granted by that damned gem in his chest.

The gem must also give the guy mind-reading abilities too, Sonic thinks bitterly, when he begins talking to him.

“You must be quite allergic to warning, hedgehog, if not incredibly dense about it. Your impulsivity is exactly what first brought you to this place, and yet you continue to let it cloud your judgement. And now look, you are sorely paying the price for it. It was a wonder, really, that the good doctor didn’t murder you on sight in there.

“But don’t think yourself lucky. Luck is nonexistent in this world. The only way to truly survive is to gain power, to crush the weak. The doctor should not have had to remind you yet again which description you fall under.”

In one moment Sonic feels like he could bite the damn canine’s head off if only his jaw didn’t feel broken, but in the very next second he forgets that urge completely. _Resistance. Fail. Dead. Planet. Hope. Gone._

“You and your resistance’s defeat was only inevitable. All of you weaklings – bogged down by love, hope, fear. Petty, superficial emotions. All emotion is superficial. It’s what lead to your downfall. It’s why the doctor rules your world now and not _you_.”

_Resistance. Fight. Dead. Lose._

“ _You_ made your world weak. You became their beacon of hope, their preserver in the water, keeping them afloat. But, as always, the preserver loses air eventually and succumbs both itself and whomever it carries to the far stronger currents. You made them believe they’d be safe, but only when they’re _with_ you. Now that you’re gone, they have no choice but to accept their own frailty. The river has swept them _and_ you under, just as it was always meant to. ”

_Fight. Lose. Fail._

“They’re _nothing_ without you.”

_Lose. Fail. Dead._

“You’re _nothing_ without _them_.”

_Lose. Lose. Lose._

_Fail._

_Dead._

When they finally make it back to Sonic’s cell the jackal tosses him in like he’s a dead weight he’s tired of lifting. Sonic pries his left eye open one more time to catch him flicking his black-and-white tail dismissively at him before he exits the cell.

Once he’s outside the jackal turns back and stares down at him. His one golden eye is emotionless as he flips the switch that seals the cage shut again..

~x~

By what felt like the exact same time the next day, by the time the agony in Sonic’s bones from Eggman’s beating had faded to throbbing aches, he still refuses to believe any of what he was told yesterday.

_“They’re BOTH lying! They were only saying all that to piss me off! Eggman CAN’T have ninety-nine percent of the world! My friends aren’t dead! They’re still fighting as hard as they can! They’re smart enough to get out when their lives are at stake! I KNOW them! I KNOW they’re alive! I KNOW Eggman’s lying! He’s just trying to mess with me! Trying to SCARE me! He just wants to feel good about himself for once! And then he threw a fit ‘cause I saw right through his ruse! It isn’t real! Just like all the Mobius-damned illusions that jackal puts me through! NONE of that is real! NONE OF IT! I KNOW IT!”_

While his mind is running frantic and furious with these thoughts, no one could ever tell so from the outside. Sonic hadn’t moved an inch from that spot where the jackal had tossed him in here yesterday, lying on one side and only wincingly shifting to the other when he felt his arm and shoulder tingle with numbness. Right now, he’s on his left side, facing away from the door, just as he had been yesterday when Zavok had to retrieve him for the good doctor.

Sonic has no idea when they’ll come for him next. They haven’t come yet, but he is constantly waiting for them. Dare he say it, he’s practically on red alert for them. His ears twitch at every sound that could be a footstep, and the slightest movement he catches outside the door immediately brings the thought through his mind: _Here it is again, time to go back. Time for another session. Time to endure what he’s got planned next…_

It isn’t because he’s scared. Of course not. Why would he be? Seriously, _why_? He’s _Sonic the freaking Hedgehog_. He’s beaten that Egghead into the ground more times than he can count. He’s taken down genies, witches, evil kings, electromagnetic horned creatures from a lost floating dwarf planet – he’s taken down a _god_ , an actual freaking _god_ , made entirely out of his most hated thing in the universe, all without breaking a single sweat. Why would Eggman scare him _now_? Why would a stupid canine augmented by a striped piece of red glass scare him? How could it? How could either of them? Well, the answer is simple: they don’t. They don’t scare him. He isn’t scared at all. He’s the hero here, always has been, and therefore they don’t scare him one bit, no matter how hard they try. He’s not afraid of _them_ , and he isn’t afraid of their lies either. He knows his friends are alive. He knows the Resistance is still kicking hard. He knows they still have the world under their control. Eggman has nothing. They have everything. He just knows it.

He keeps telling himself that, over and over, as he waits; he knows they’re alright, he just _knows_.

He knows.

~x~

“Well, Sonic? What do you think of my new swimming pool? Pretty great, huh?”

“…It’s not new if it never existed at all.”

“I– excuse me?”

“What? D’ya think I’m dumb? I’m not falling for _this_ crap again. It’s just another illusion, just like everything else you’ve– ”

“Did you know that a person left in a body of water tend to try even harder to swim longer only if they’ve been rescued before?”

“…What on Mobius are you talking about now– ?”

“Well, it’s absolutely true! Survival instincts tend to keep kicking for longer only if there is even a tiny sliver of hope that they’ll live somehow. It’s totally backed by science, too. I used to have a colleague at a scientific research facility who tested such behavior on some feral dogs. Quite fascinating, really! Wouldn’t you agree?”

“…Eggman– ”

“And I’ve been wondering for years, does it happen in all creatures? Not just those dogs?”

“ _Eggman_ – ”

“So, Sonic, if you wouldn’t mind being my little guinea pig…”

~x~

They do that to him over a weak after Eggman’s beating of him. He tries – _really freaking TRIES_ – harder than he’s ever tried before. He tries to keep himself afloat just like a normal person would, tries to doggy-paddle or whatever it’s called as best as he can in these damn cuffs without letting the realization that he’s _surrounded by water it’s water oh dear Lord in heaven so much freaking WATER_ make him lose his cool. He really tries. He tries so hard, all while Eggman and his cronies watch him flounder from above, surrounding the imaginary pool like vultures eager to feed.

He lasts about three minutes before the limited movement and the anxiety coursing through his bones become too much, and he flounders and splashes and kicks at the water in feeble attempts to leap out of his nightmare until his muscles grow stiff and achy from the effort and his quills grow so oversaturated with liquid that they begin to drag him under like dead weights.

When he finally sinks below the surface he truly believes he’s going to die now. That that was what Eggman had meant when he was talking about the dogs and the swimming experiments and all that; he’d never planned to get him out for future tests because he just wanted to see any remaining slivers of hope that his worst enemy had disappear from his eyes as he finally drowns for good. So when he’s finally plucked from the water, sputtering and coughing back up everything that’d entered his lungs, for a moment he actually believes that he’s officially entered the afterlife that his more faith-oriented friends had always talked about. But then he hears the laughter – that _Mobius damned LAUGHTER_ – and as his vision swims back into focus his heart sinks as fast as _he_ did in that illusory pool.

Eggman folds his arms and shoots him a wry grin. Sonic can’t think of anything else he can do except glare right back – keep up that ever-growing-weaker façade that this isn’t affecting him in the slightest.

They don’t drag him back to the cell like they usually do. Instead, Sonic blinks and all of a sudden he’s surrounded by the dull enclosed walls again. He flinches, and has just enough time to wonder what the hell just happened before whatever holding him up drops him so that he falls forward with a yelp.

Immediately, he flips around to see just who (or even what) had brought him here again. Who he sees sends a sharp jolt through his whole body.

If the figure’s black fur streaked with red highlights couldn’t have possibly made him recognize them, then the distinct scowl and green emerald gripped in their right hand absolutely would.

“ _Shadow_.” A rush of actual hatred rushes through Sonic in that moment. He shoots him a glare that could melt steel, his teeth clenched together. “What the hell is this all about? What kinda spell has he got _you_ under? Did he promise you a reward? Seriously, _what_? _Why_ are you doing this? Why the hell are you throwing everything away like this!? _Why are you destroying everyone you said you wanted to protect_!?”

Sonic is close to screaming now. It feels like every ounce of anger he’d accumulated his entire imprisonment is suddenly bursting out of him. He doesn’t bother masking any of it, especially not his disgust at Shadow specifically, somebody that he’d known for so long and had fought with several times but still considered him a _friend_ …

Sonic spits it one more time, his voice actually breaking from the effort: “…Why the _actual hell_ are you doing this to everyone?”

Shadow’s face is emotionless as he stares down at Sonic. Sonic raises an eyebrow at him, daring him to answer.

But he doesn’t. He doesn’t even speak. He just huffs and lifts the Chaos emerald high.

A bright blue light briefly replaces the other hedgehog. Then, he’s gone, leaving Sonic’s burning questions hanging in the air like storm clouds.

~x~

He needs to get out of here.

It isn’t an opinion. It isn’t a simple feeling. It’s a fact. He _needs_ to break out of this hellhole, no matter what it takes. He can’t sit here and take the drownings or beatings anymore. He needs to move. He needs to take action.

If he doesn’t get out of here he’ll explode.

He searches for cracks or weaknesses in his prison just like he did the first week he was here. Except now he puts a metaphorical magnifying glass to every area he checks, double- and triple-checks. There _has_ to be a weakness here, he thinks, there’s _always_ a weakness, there’s _always_ a way to escape, he would know, he knows Eggman _just that well_. There’s always, always a weak spot in anything he builds– especially here in the Death Egg, which Sonic has thoroughly destroyed in the past. There’s _always_ been a weakness before, why should now be any different?

He doesn’t consider any other scenario. He doesn’t let him consider it. Thinking even for just a moment about it feels like giving up, and he’ll never give up, because he knows that his friends are still out there fighting for the Resistance, he just has to get out of here and join them.

Eggman is still a nutjob who leaves obvious weak spots on every machine he creates, primed and ready for Sonic to exploit; that’s how it has been, and that’s how it will always be. End of story.

He spends entire days searching like this, first with just his eyes and then with his hands, crawling across the floor and feeling up the walls for anything that could help grant him his ticket out of here. Then, after it feels like he’s sextuple-checked every inch of the area, he begins to force the weakness. He slams his body against the walls, spindashes as best as he can with his hands and feet bound into the floor, the ceiling, the corners and edges where they meet the walls. He can’t tell for how long he does this. Like he even gives a damn.

Likewise, he doesn’t give a damn when his dull bruises from Eggman’s beating begin flaring with pain again from his efforts. Neither when the cuffs begin chafing his wrists and ankles from the constant force, swelling and callousing the soft skin under his gloves. Not when his long-since healed wounds reopen, when his bones scream at him to stop. He can’t stop; if he does, then he’s giving up, and heroes don’t give up on the people who need them.

_“Can’t give up won’t give up I won’t give up on them”_

He doesn’t do this for very long however; it feels like not even a whole day goes by when he suddenly stops.

It doesn’t even feel like he stops out of his own volition; rather, the cruel hands of the universe force him to.

All it takes is one specific spin attack at the wall, just one out of the countless others he’s done so far, and he is falling hard to the floor, screaming like a wounded animal – which, in fact, is what he is.

He curls into a ball and bites his lip as a long moan of pain escapes him. He squeezes his eyes shut, but when he feels the sting of tears he briefly forgets his agony to mentally slap himself: _“No you don’t, you can’t cry, not if you want them to think they’re getting to you, ‘cause they’re NOT, you can’t cry, you can’t, you WON’T.”_

He takes another small moment to breathe and let the message sink in before he checks his left leg, where the pain had burst from. He keeps himself from wincing when he sees the grazed flesh under the cuffs, the steady flow of red that soaks his socks and fur.

He lies there on his side, still clutching his ankle while the cold from the floor seeps into his bones, praying to the stars that it’s just a really bad sprain.

~x~

“You’ve been here five months now, and yet you continue to fight to escape like you did at the start of all this. Curious…”

“…Nothin’ curious about it at all, really. What else am I supposed to do all day? Freaking solitaire?”

“You could contemplate your fate. Contemplate how your actions brought you to this place. Just as _I’ve_ had to do…”

“Lemme guess, you needed money, you fell into a trap, you– ”

“ _I_ brought my _self_ here. I welcomed the doctor’s presence. I saw in him the one who could rip me to shreds – the old me, the one that was so weak and frail. I let him rip me apart so that he could make me strong. I was hopeless, a toothless infant before I went to the doctor, but that weakness was what gave me this power. It’s what created this new me, the me that could never lose to a blue rat like _you_ …”

“…Jeez, you’d think people would figure it out by now…”

“What?”

“I mean, it’s pretty obvious that I’m not a rat, but by now, after I’ve said it a million ti– ow oW _OW OW_ – !?”

“As I said, you should always contemplate your actions. They are the only things that lead to your current situations. Like how your loose mouth has lead you to _this_ …”

~x~

They stop feeding him. He notices this just a little bit before the jackal breaks his leg, but only starts to seriously feel its effects after that particular encounter.

Every inch of him aches. He’s so hurt and tired and bored he wants to scream. Hunger gnaws at his empty stomach like a parasite. All day. Every second.

A mighty need grips him every second – a need for _something_ , nothing specific, but _something_ that he can use to keep convincing himself that this would all end soon.

When they finally gift him some gruel after what feels like weeks, he eats it so fast that he almost vomits it right back up.

He wonders what he’d see right now if he looks in a mirror. He can see a slight reflection in the metal walls of this cage, smudged and blurred. That’s absolutely enough for him. He doesn’t want to see what they’ve turned him into.

He lies on his back most of the time now, trying so hard to keep his broken leg as straight and aligned as possible. He has no idea if he’s successful. It still hurts like hell no matter what he does.

He thinks their names: _Tails Amy Knuckles Silver Vector Cream Espio Charmy Rouge_

He thinks of them: _not dead not dead not dead not dead not dead not dead they’re safe they’re safe they’re safe they’re safe they’re fighting fighting fighting fighting fighting fighting fighting fighting fighting_

He keeps thinking. If he doesn’t, he’ll surely go insane.

~x~

“…You’ve been rather quiet lately, Sonic. Finally accepted the truth, have you?”

“…”

“…Hm. That’s exactly what I thought you’d say!”

~x~

_Must not cry must not cry must not cry must not cry must not cry must not cry must not cry must not cry must not cry must not cry must not cry must not cry must not cry must not cry must not cry must not cry must not cry_

~x~

He thinks he’s dying.

~x~

He _knows_ he’s dying.

~x~

_Tails Amy Knuckles Silver…_

~x~

He’s gotta be dying; he’s drifting to sleep far easier than before.

~x~

_Tails Amy Knuckles…_

_Amy…_

_Knux…_

_Tails…_

~x~

After a few more ~~sessions days seconds minutes weeks months~~

After a while…

He stops thinking. He stops fighting.

He finally admits that Eggman had been telling the truth all along.

~x~

After a while…

~x~

he’s done.

~x~

When he opens his eyes he sees a blurry figure standing over him. They peer down at him, cock their head to one side, look behind themselves before grunting and scooping Sonic into their arms.

They must be here to take me to that heavenly place, he thinks.

He’d always assumed that any pain you felt when you died would disappear as soon as your soul fully left your body, but hey, what can you do?

The figure lifts him and carries him. He hears a bit of a ruckus, a scuffle, and then a series of hushed voices.

His eyes have already slipped shut again by the time he can make out a single word: _…safe…_

~x~

When he wakes up again the realization that he’s not dead hits him like a freight train. He tries to sit up but a series of tendrils hold him back, making him yelp in surprise.

“Oh– n-no, Mr. Sonic! D-D-Don’t do th-tha-that!”

Sonic opens his eyes, blinking away the blurry field covering his vision.

Somebody he’s never seen before is looking at him. A wolf with red-orange fur, a tan belt covered in small pockets at his waist and army-green gloves on his hands. A matching earpiece sits just below his left ear and a pair of black square glasses are perched on his nose. The bright, wide golden eyes behind those glasses are staring right into Sonic’s. He looks young, a tween at the oldest.

He also currently looks surprised, relieved, and bewildered all at once.

“…Uh…” Sonic cough-clears his throat before trying again. “…I-I, uh… wh-where am I…?” he rasps.

Upon hearing him speak, the wolf breathes a huge sigh that Sonic hadn’t noticed him holding until now. “Oh, th-th-thank good Muh-Muh-Mobius…” he mutters before returning his attention to Sonic, “S-S-Sorry sir, b-b-but you’ll r-rip yuh-yuh-your I-I-I-Vs out if yuh-you do th-that! Yuh-you g-g-gotta k-keep st-st-still, a-and yuh-yuh-yuh… y-your leg! Yuh-You gotta b-b-b-be c-c-careful with-th-th-the sp-p-plint, s-sir.”

Sonic simply blinks at him, cocking an eyebrow as he processes this information. He tries to sit up again, gentler this time, though his body still aches from the effort. “Uh… wh-what’s going on here? I-I thought I was– oh, _oh boy_ … ”

A splitting headache hits him as he speaks, making his eyes roll back as his head falls back onto– a pillow?

_Where did THAT come from? Where the hell AM I?_

“N-N-No no, Mr. Sonic! I-It’s okay!” The wolf keeps stumbling over his words as he rushes to Sonic’s side. Sonic feels his glove touch his shoulder, the briefest of touches before -pulling away sharply.

“Y-Y-You-You don’t wa-a-ant-t-t t-to st-st-st-strain yuh-yuh-yourself, yuh-you’re s-s-s-st-ill h-h-healing! Huh-huh-h-hold on– !”

Sonic hears his footsteps patter away across a metal floor; then, after a moment, the footsteps return, and Sonic opens his eyes to find the wolf by his bedside – if this even _is_ a bed that he’s spread across – gripping a small white bottle in his fist.

“I-I juh-juh-just re-re-rem-muh-muh-membered.” The wolf gives him a toothy grin as he twists the cap off of the bottle. “I-It-It-It’s been an ow-ow-ow-hour, s-s-so you n-n-need a-a-another– ”

“W-Wait, no, buddy, hold up.”

The wolf, to Sonic’s surprise, freezes when he hears him. His cheeks flare red, and he takes his hand off the cap to push his glasses up his nose, although to Sonic they already seem pretty secure.

“…Y-Y-Yeah? Wh-What’s goin’ o-on s-s-s-sir– ?”

“Answer me this kid: what is going on? Where am I? Who are you? Why am I all patched up like this? What happened when I was out cold?”

Even as he asks them Sonic believes he might just know the answers to those questions; he just wants to confirm his suspicions before his hopes get too high again – _never again_.

“…O-Oh… Oh!” The wolf adjusts his glasses once more. “U-Um… w-we got yuh-yuh-you out, sir! Muh-My te-te-team and I, w-we snu-uh-uh-uck aboard th-th-the D-D- _Death_ Egg! Y-You’re suh-suh-safe on a sh-sh-shuh-shuh- _shuttle_ now! W-We– !”

“I’m out of there…?” Sonic mutters aloud, hoarse and raspy. “I… W-We’re really free of that place…?”

He doesn’t expect an answer, only saying these things to convince himself that they’re the absolute truth, yet the wolf still obliges: “…Y-Yes sir! I-I-I helped cuh-cuh- _carry you_! I… Fuh-Fuh-Fuchsia d-i-id all the muh-muh-medic-uh-cuh-cal stuff, he-e-er muh-mom is a nuh-nuh-nurse at the huh-huh-hos-pit-uh-uh-uh– ”

The wolf yelps when Sonic suddenly grabs his wrist. He doesn’t mean to startle the poor guy – if he _doesn’t_ seem jittery enough to him… – but he can’t stop his hand from shooting out and holding onto him like he’s a pole keeping Sonic from being swept away by the current.

Sonic stares him dead in the eyes and says, low and rough, “…You’re with the Resistance, aren’t you? All of you, that… that _team_ you keep saying… it-it’s still going, isn’t it…?”

“…Uh-Uh-Uh, yuh-yuh-yeah, _yeah_! Th-That’s right, s-s-sir! I-I ack-tuh-tuh-tually d-didn’t think I cuh-cuh-could come tuh-tuh-too, b-but Cuh-Cuh-Cuh-Comm-m-mander Kn-nuh-nuh-nuckles– ”

“ _Knuckles?”_ Sonic shoots up again, ignoring the ensuing bolts of pain in his abdomen. “…Y-You said Knuckles… w-who else is there? Who’re your other commanders?”

“Um… w-w-well, I kn-nuh-nuh-know Miss-s-ss A-A-Amy Ruh-Rose, sh-she helps Cuh-Cuh- _Commander_ Knuck-ck-ckles in the cuh-cuh-compu-tuh-tuh- _computer room_ – ! A-And… thuh-thuh-there’s the Cay-Cay-Chaotix, thuh-the dete-te-tective agen-gency, a-and…”

The wolf rattles off even more names, but Sonic can barely hear them anymore over how loudly his heart is singing. His head falls backwards onto the pillow again, his eyes closing but his mouth smiling. His heart sings so loud he thinks he might just cry.

They’re okay. The Resistance is still going on strong. They’re still fighting. His friends are fighting– they’re _alive_. He was gone for so long, but they’re still alive. They’re alright. They’re still fighting hard to take back their freedom. They’re probably all waiting for him at the Resistance base, bursting to see him again after believing he was dead or worse, and they’re _freaking alive_.

His friends are alive. They’re okay.

It’s okay.

**Author's Note:**

> ...Well, here I was thinking I'd never write about a video game ever again, but then the Sonic movie trailer had to come out and prompt me to finally play Sonic Forces and make me thoroughly obsessed with the series yet again X'D  
> I hope you all enjoyed this story, the first in what I'm hoping will be a new series of Sonic oneshots, set during the events of Forces. These stories will be very character-centered, and will focus on a different character each time, to help flesh out the game's story and explore some of the developments the characters could go through during the plot (like, I mean, I love Forces a lot, but I do have to say, that story was SO full of wasted potential...)  
> I do want to continue this into a series, but don't be surprised if the next one takes a while to come out, my interests tend to come and go BUT I'm hoping that I'll stay inspired to pump out a few more of these cause MAN was this one interesting to write down :D  
> Anyway, hope you all enjoyed this! I wasn't totally keen on how in-character Sonic was in this story though, especially towards the end - then again, we've never seen the character experience a situation like this in the official material, so it could still be accurate speculation. Either way, please let me know what you think! Would you like to see me continue these? Please let me know in the reviews below!  
> With all that said, thanks so much for checking out this story! See you in the next one, all you beautiful Sonic fans! Hope you have a great day! :D  
> ~Pixel


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